


Like Father, Like Son

by androgenius



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Love at First Sight, Meet-Cute, thearcanasecretcupid2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius
Summary: Salim falls in love with Aisha on a rainy afternoon in Summer, years before he ever officially meets her.





	Like Father, Like Son

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Arcana Secret Cupid exchange on tumblr, and is a gift for the-cloud-road! 
> 
> I'm not particularly well-versed in headscarf terminology, but I did my best with Aisha's, which seems to be a combination of styles... but also seems to be closest to the Al-Amira. If I got this wrong, please tell me!! I'd be more than happy to correct my mistake! <3

Salim falls in love with Aisha on a rainy afternoon in Summer, years before he ever officially meets her.

His path that day is an anomaly, his steps leading him to parts of Vesuvia rarely traversed on account of an errand assigned to him by his mother.

The surprise downpour hits with no notice, lingering far longer than expected as people all around him rush for the overhangs of whatever storefront happens to be closest. Salim had only just emerged from the store his errand had sent him on, but now, the sight that grips him is enough to draw him out of the safety of the overhang if only to get a better view.

She's just across the way, having long since retreated to a dry bit of safety alongside countless other shoppers formerly part of the everyday hustle and bustle around this area. Her Al-Amira looks to be soaked by now, her hands doing their best to at least wring out her hem.

He doesn't catch her eye. Not once-- even with all his staring.

Before he so much as has a chance to consider walking through the rain and to his future, to this breathtaking woman-- the rain stops just as quickly as it began.

The exodus from beneath the overhangs of the myriad stores around the square borders on overwhelming, a veritable flood of people streaming into the newly-emerging sunlight.

His will restored, he fights to weave his way through the crowd, doing his best to give chase to the small glimpses of lilac and white, finally emerging from the hustle and bustle of the crowd into a less-densely populated area.

And just like that, she's gone, no trace of her seeming to remain-- as though all this time, he was doing little else but chasing a mirage, a nonexistent oasis in a desert that's left him parched and dying without a care.

Still, he's left enchanted.

The path he takes through Vesuvia changes after that day, anything in the hopes of seeing her again. Old streets-- formerly traversed far less frequently-- are made unfamiliar again, if only because of the hope of _her_ around any and all corners.

After a week of nothing to show for his efforts, he starts to ask around.

He'd been reluctant to start with this method, if only because he knew fully well what the result would be. Everyone here knows him-- has known him since birth, more or less. The news of his asking about a mysterious woman in lilac is bound to spread faster than wildfire.

And so it does, changing slightly with each tongue that touches upon the idea.

 _Salim is looking for a woman_ rapidly becomes _Salim is in love, Salim is engaged to be wed_ , and _Salim has discovered the existence of a long-lost sister_.

Admittedly, he might be in love. It certainly feels closer to the truth than not. Only love could make him feel quite this mad, he thinks.

At least the rumor mill does its job. Within two days of setting the information free, his labor comes to bear fruit, with Tilde the Leech Monger poking her head into his parents' shop.

"Salim, I've found your sister!"

"Uh, that's..." _Quite literally my least favorite version of those rumors_? He falters.

"What's this about a sister?" his father asks, Salim letting out a soft sigh as he shakes his head. There's no point debating it now.

"Go on, then. About my, uh... sister?"

"Her name is Aisha," Tilde declares proudly. "Just moved here from far away! Not sure how you'd be related, but that's that."

Salim is out of his seat in an instant.

"Do you know where I can find her?"

 

&

 

The answer to that question ends up being _no_. The only clue he has to go on is that she's been seen near the Town Square, quite a ways away from where he and his parents live in the South End. But then, he supposes it makes sense. Her clothes made her look like nobility-- like someone important.

Very different from his own status, of course.

After that day, he starts taking his lunches and breaks in the Town Square, his errand runs turning almost comically long to accommodate the various detours he takes.

Still, when he falls asleep against the fountain at the center of the Square, halfway through a piece of pumpkin bread, the last thing he expects is to awaken to the sight of an angel.

Her form blots out the warm rays of the sun, Salim blinking himself into a state of near-consciousness as he looks up.

"Oh," he says.

"I'm so sorry," she tells him, drawing back somewhat, her expression sheepish at best. She's so composed-looking that the expression looks out of place on her features, but-- still, Salim thinks he might be willing to die for that flush. "I didn't mean to wake you. It's just--"

"No!" He scrambles to his feet in a moment of near-panic, eyes wide, hands flapping in the air as though trying to stop himself from falling off a cliff's edge. "It's no trouble at all!"

"Ah." The smile, so painfully earnest, that colors her features at that is enough to make his heart jump into overdrive, pounding hard enough to make him wonder as though this meeting won't actually kill him. "That's quite the relief. I simply... heard that you were looking for me."

"Oh," he says, blinking owlishly as recognition comes over his features. And then, a second time-- " _oh_."

"Might I... inquire why?"

 _Right_. That would be an entirely normal thing to ask. Salim feels himself start to sweat.

"Ah... yes," he starts, wondering how on earth to explain this in a way that won't come off as creepy. "Yes," he tries again, swallowing hard.

Now, if only he hadn't forgotten a not-terrifying explanation in his other pants.

"Did you... need me for something?"

_To stare at your general splendor? To spend time in your vicinity? To let some of your inherent perfection rub off on me simply by coexisting in the same space as you?_

All wrong.

"I never saw an angel before the other day," he explains, willing his tongue not to trip over his words even as his hands go into overdrive to compensate. "And, ah... when I did, I couldn't stop thinking about seeing a creature so beautiful again."

This time, it's her that emits the soft, _oh_ of surprise.

For a moment, she just looks stunned.

The sound of a woman's voice calling for her runs through the silence between them like a clap of thunder.

She pulls back as though burned, a hasty "I'm sorry!" leaving her-- before she hastily tacks on, "I'll be back!" her steps carrying her away like a whisper in the wind.

As though she was never there at all in the first place.

She doesn't come back that day or the next, their Cinderella story-- is the the prince or the pauper? he can't be sure; all he really knows is that he would die for the luxury of a slipper-- seemingly getting him nowhere fast. His parents, tired of sending their son on an errand only for him to disappear for the rest of the day, start to give him work to do while waiting for her to return to the fountain.

For the most part, it accomplishes little beyond garnering the supportive and-- at times-- pitying stares and comments of his fellow passers-by.

Still, he doesn't lose hope, doesn't falter in his devotion. And, on the fifth day, his patience is rewarded.

It's not Aisha that comes to meet him in the square, however, but a... messenger, a man he doesn't recognize. A servant, perhaps?

Salim sets down the piece he'd been working on, blinking expectantly as the man fiddles with a scroll, the parchment beautifully wax-sealed.

"Milady is a master magician, too," the messenger explains, gesturing at the mechanical device humming softly atop Salim's thighs.

"A-- Aisha?" He blinks.

The messenger nods. "Though she doesn't get to practice much these days." His arm extends as he hands over the scroll. "Her family doesn't know about this. Keep it safe."

Salim nods, though it barely even registers as a conscious decision. His fingers close down around fine, fine parchment as the messenger disappears around a corner. Disbelief reigns supreme for a few heartbeats before he wills himself to break the beautiful seal and read-- what he presumes to be-- Aisha's stunning script.

All it has written is a location and a time.

He can work with that.

 

&

 

The caves are dark and beautiful and he does his best not to slip as he lets his magic guide him closer to hers. He can feel it now, here-- a part of him wonders if that isn't precisely why he felt drawn to her in the first place, the fact that he could feel her magic and his, the way they entwined from the very beginning.

It feels _good_ and _right_ and, as he nears the pond, he can practically feel his magic start to _sing_.

"Hello," she says upon seeing round the corner, and, somehow, he feels his whole world get brighter.

 

&

 

Asra exists as naught but a glimmer in his father's eye for long before he's ever born.

They sneak around for a while without her parents knowing, but he knows the peace is not meant to last. Certainly not after she ends up pregnant.

She moves into his parents' store with him at first, but the creation of their own magic shop seems an inevitability, all the riches in the world not enough to dissuade them to part from one another's sides.

They adopt Chimes and Flamel, welcome a beautiful baby boy into the world... and, for a long time, life is good.

They don't expect things to go so terribly wrong.

 

&

 

That's in the past now, he thinks, surveying Vesuvia from their rooftop, the warmth of summer slowly rolling in as the sun sets over the distant horizon. They're together again-- him, Aisha, and Asra... and Catti, a more recent addition to their small family. He feels Chimes climb up his arm and he catches a smile on his face that won't seem to go away.

Lapsang souchong and blankets on the rooftop is hardly a new thing for them, but it's new for Catti, who had initially thought to bring a book upstairs. Now, though, she's fast asleep against Asra's shoulder, even the black tea not sufficient in keeping her awake. Still, her magic is awake and alive melding with Asra's as though they've never known a day apart.

"This is nice," Aisha says, Salim finding himself unable to help but agree.

If this is his forever, he thinks, it's more than enough.


End file.
